


Sanctuary

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Medical, Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Doctor Dean, Gun Violence, Homosexuality, Hospitalization, Lawyer Sam, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medical Professionals, Medical Trauma, Switching, Top Dean, Top Sam, Unrelated Winchesters, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6776836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I thought it was my job. I thought it was this place. But this whole time ... It's you. It's always been you."</p>
<p>A tragic accident shakes Dr. Dean Winchester to his core. When attorney Sam Wesson sees a familiar name attached to what could turn into a vicious case, he sets out to protect the only man he's ever loved. The two men easily pick up right where they left off, but find that everything is not as easy. Especially when the threat turns deadly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the Tumblr/LJ Wincest Reversebang! I had such a great time writing this, and kudos to the AMAZING artist, emmatheslayer, for making a piece of art that immediately had my muse going!
> 
> Check out the AMAZING art at http://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/362287.html. 
> 
> This story was inspired by Grey's Anatomy's season 6 finale. The two episodes are some of the best of the entire show (at least in my opinion), and I decided to give this story my spin on a similar storyline. At the artist's request, this story involves both boys topping and bottoming. 
> 
> I am not a lawyer, and please keep in mind this is a work of fiction. I don't know how the legal world works (except for what I've seen in procedural cop shows) so I ask that you bend your mind a bit for me.

-one-

Dean Winchester slumped against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He reached up and pulled off his scrub cap, sighing heavily before walking over to the sink and washing his hands and forearms. He breathed in deeply, exhaled slowly, and looked up, gazing through the glass to the room where a crew was now cleaning and sterilizing. 

A knock at the door made Dean glance over his shoulder, and a smile spread over his face.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Dr. Lisa Braeden wrinkled her nose, but gave him a smile, perfectly white teeth shining behind her rapidly-wearing-off lipstick.

"You did good in there, doc."

Dean gave her a half-smile, turning away at the nickname. Lisa stepped further into the scrub room and closed the door behind her. Dean licked his lips, reaching for a towel and drying his hands off. He tossed the towel into the bin behind him, then looked forward again, hands gripping the steel sink as he stared into the operating room. Lisa stepped closer to him, lifting a hand and gently rubbing his back. He exhaled again, shaking his head, then spoke softly. 

"They started her on antibiotics, right?"  
"Your usual cocktail, up and running through her IV as we speak."

Dean nodded. 

"I have a bad feeling, Lis."  
"What kind of feeling?"

He shook his head, still staring at the table, which was getting wiped down with antibacterial spray. He spoke softly, barely even a whisper.

"Like I missed something."

Lisa sighed, taking hold of his shoulders and turning him around. 

"That surgery was textbook, Dean. Nothing out of the ordinary, no surprises. We all watched you. We saw what you did, we heard you over the intercom. The tumor looked exactly like it did on the scans. You got it all."  
"But what if I--"  
"Stop."

Dean hung his head, and Lisa reached up, gently cupping his cheek.

"I know it was horrible, but it's over. It happened, but you've got to get past it. You're fixating, honey."  
"Lisa."  
"Tell me I'm wrong."

Dean sighed, pulling his face from her touch, turning away from her. He set his hands on his hips, the dark blue scrubs showcasing the tan skin of his forearms. Lisa looked down at the floor, then lifted her eyes to his back, speaking softly.

"It wasn't your fault."

Dean dragged a hand over his face, then turned to look at her.

"You sure about that?"  
"Dean--"  
"It was my surgery, my intern. I was on call, and--"  
"And he should have called you. The second Baker realized he was in over his head, he should have called you."

Dean nodded, then shrugged his shoulders.

"But he didn't."  
"You're right. _He_ didn't. _You_ didn't know anything was wrong. The person at fault here is not you, Dean."  
"She was my patient."

The way his voice broke shattered Lisa's heart, and she walked forward until she could wrap him in her arms. Dean put his face in her hair, and she sighed. Her hand drifted up to comb through his hair, and she spoke in a soothing voice.

"You did everything you could. I know how easy it is to blame yourself, but honey ... You honestly are not the one at fault here. Baker is, and he's gone now. Dismissed from the program, remember?"  
"Doesn't make it any easier."  
"No, it doesn't."

Lisa pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders, giving him a small smile.

"But look at you. You're still one of the best surgeons I've ever seen."  
"You're biased."  
"I'm not! Listen, if there was anything wrong with me, I would get on that table for a total of two people, one of them being you."

Dean blinked, then whispered.

"Really?"  
"Swear to God."

Dean nodded as he glanced into the operating room, clean and surgically sterile, ready for the next case. He flicked his eyes back to Lisa, then smiled.

"Who's the other person?"  
"Hmm?"  
"You said you'd get on the table for two people. Me and who else?"

Lisa smiled.

"Ellen Harvelle. As much as I love you, Winchester, you're not getting anywhere near my lady bits."  
"I love you too, and no offense, but I don't _want_ to get anywhere near your lady ... yuck."

Lisa threw her head back and laughed. She held out a hand, motioning with her head towards the door.

"Come on. Celebratory coffee. My treat."

Dean smiled, slipping his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together as they left the scrub room.

"Thanks, Lis."  
"Anytime, baby. Listen, I think I heard someone say something about scones this morning."  
"Is this another baby thing?"  
"Oh, shut up. No one else knows about that, you know."  
"Hey, my lips are sealed."

Dean dropped her hand as they reached the coffee cart, and she walked forward, smiling widely when she saw the array of baked goods.

"Is that pecan?"

The barista nodded, and Lisa let out a happy sigh. Dean shook his head as he laughed, then nodded to the barista.

"Two coffees, make hers decaf. And that pecan thing."

Dean scanned his badge before Lisa could, and she scowled at him.

"I said this was my treat."  
"Call me old-fashioned."

Lisa snorted, and Dean flashed her a grin. They took their coffees and walked over to a table, taking seats on opposite sides. Dean took a sip of the scalding liquid, reveling in the burn down his throat. Lisa tore off a piece of her scone, handing it across the table, and he slipped the pastry into his mouth.

"Huh. Pretty good."  
"I know, right?"

He smiled, and she leaned forward as she spoke.

"I've got an appointment with Ellen at four today."  
"Want me to come along?"  
"You want to be there?"

Dean shrugged.

"I'd rather not be present for the pelvic or the ultrasound that they ..."

He made a motion with his hands and Lisa rolled her eyes.

"It's not a dirty word, Dean. You can say 'vagina.'"

He gave a whole body shiver, holding up a hand.

"Do not. Especially at the breakfast table."

Lisa laughed, shaking her head at him. He shivered again, then shook his head at her.

"It's nasty."  
"You would not be saying that if you were straight."  
"If I was straight, you would not be in the situation that you're in."

She tilted her head to the side, and he gave her a smile.

"I'd have fathered that baby long before now, probably."

Lisa blinked, looking down at her scone as tears came to her eyes. He reached across the table, holding out his hand, and Lisa slipped hers into it. Dean gave her hand a squeeze, smiling at her when she looked up at him. He gave her a wink as he spoke.

"As it is, I'm happy just being Uncle Dean."  
"Thank you."

He winked at her again, letting go of her hand and sipping his coffee. Lisa sighed.

"I mean it, Dean. Thank you for not running off."  
"Where would I go? You've stuck by me through some shit. The least I can do is stick by you."  
"It's just really embarrassing, you know? I'm over thirty, a doctor, and I get knocked up on a one-night-stand."  
"Hey, it happens. No shame. Anybody asks, tell 'em you got artificially inseminated and I'm the dad."

Lisa cocked an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"  
"Hey, anybody who knows me would believe it. No other way I'd father a child."  
"You do have a point. I mean, you can't even say the word 'vagina,' so..."  
"Lis!"

She cackled, leaning back in her chair, balling up her now-empty napkin. Dean moved to rest his elbows on the table, coffee steaming as he held the cup between his hands.

"I met with the lawyers last night."  
"Lawyers? Seriously?"

Dean pursed his lips as he nodded.

"Chief thought it would be ... proactive for me to meet with them."

Lisa leaned forward.

"You really think the husband will do something?"

Dean lifted his eyes to her.

"Yeah, I do. If it was me, I definitely would."  
"But you didn't do anything."  
"It was my patient."  
"But it wasn't _you._ "

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"He was my intern. I was in charge of him, which means whatever he does comes back on me. Right or wrong."

Lisa shook her head, blowing out a breath.

"This is bullshit."

Dean shrugged again, then sighed.

"I gave them an official statement, and they're working on ... something. I don't understand lawyer shit."  
"But you could get sued for something you didn't even do."

Dean licked his lips, then pushed his empty cup away from him.

"I should have ... I should have stayed there. I shouldn't have left."  
"Left? Dean. You went to an on-call room to get some sleep."  
"That doesn't matter. I should have confirmed the treatment with Baker."  
"You did."  
"I should have made him recite the shit to me. Dosage and all."  
"You did."  
"I should have--"  
_"You did."_

Lisa reached across the table. Dean hung his head, pushing his hands through his hair. Lisa sighed, leaning forward a bit more and patting him on the shoulder. 

"This was an accident. This was a ... a kid who thought he knew more than he did, and it ended in the worst possible way. You did _everything_ you were supposed to do. We can't sit around and babysit the interns every second of the day. Baker was good. He should have been fine."  
"But he wasn't."  
"And that's not your fault."

Dean lifted his head, and Lisa grasped his hand.

"Baker is the one who fucked up here. Not you. He's the one who has to live with her death on his hands. He'll be the one paying for his sins here, Dean. Not you."  
"That doesn't make it any easier."

Lisa let out a sigh.

"I know it doesn't. But it's the best I got right now."

Dean nodded, letting out a long breath. He glanced at the watch on his wrist, then sighed.

"I should go check on Ms. Jennings."

Lisa nodded, standing up and straightening her white coat. 

"Yeah, I've got patients I need to check on."

Dean nodded.

"Hey, your appointment is at four?"

Lisa sighed.

"You don't have to come."  
"Hey."

Dean reached over, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I told you that I'm going to be here for you. I mean it, Lis."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she let out a shaky laugh. She waved a hand in front of her face, then sniffled.

"Go save some lives."  
"You too, doc."

Dean leaned over and kissed her cheek, then walked towards the elevators. At the last minute, he decided to take the stairs, and he took them two at a time, three when he could. He found himself on the third floor before he knew it, and glanced around before slipping into a room. Glass panels filled one wall from waist-height to the ceiling, and Dean couldn't help but smile as he stepped forward. There were three babies that he could see, two sleeping soundly while one red-faced little one announced his or her displeasure. 

It was always peaceful on this end of the hall, while the other end held the sometimes frantic, fast-paced world of laboring mothers. This little slice of peace was Dean's haven, his sanctuary. He could breathe, he could clear his mind. He could think. Sometimes the babies noticed him, and they'd stare at him with brand-new eyes, serious looks on their tiny faces. Sometimes, like now, they simply slept, and the nurses noticed him. They never came and spoke to him, though.

He thought it was because they probably understood. 

He glanced down at his watch and sighed, laying a hand against the cool glass before turning and walking down the hall. He took the stairs up to the fifth floor, straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping into the role of doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

-two-

"So you'll have a consultation in about ten minutes, then lunch with the D.A. and two more consults this afternoon. The Rodriguez trial got pushed to tomorrow, but everyone, including me, is thinking they're going to settle in the eleventh hour tonight."

Charlie Bradbury flicked her eyes up from her tablet, dark eyes narrowing when she saw her boss hold his fist near his mouth as he yawned widely. Charlie bit on her bottom lip as she tried to hide her smile.

"Late night, boss?"

Sam Wesson, attorney at law, smiled, then rubbed a hand over his eyes. 

"I'm just working too much, staying here too late. I was supposed to have dinner last night--"  
"Oh, yeah, with Connor ... somebody?"

Sam lifted his eyes and Charlie shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm your assistant. I know it all."

Sam gave a quiet laugh, then sighed. 

"Yeah, Connor Somebody, and I completely stood him up."

Charlie winced and Sam nodded. She raised a shoulder as she spoke.

"Want me to send him some flowers or something? Wait. Do guys do that?"

Sam let out a laugh.

"Nah, just don't worry about it. I wasn't that interested in him to begin with, if we're being honest."  
"Yes, we're being honest. We're friends."

Sam looked up at Charlie, who shrugged.

"What? We are!"

Sam let out another laugh, and Charlie sighed.

"I'm going to be frank with you, Sam."  
"Should I be worried?"

Charlie scoffed.

"No!"

Sam chuckled to himself, and Charlie leaned her hip against his desk.

"You've got to get out more. And by 'out,' I mean _outside_ this office."  
"I go out!"

Charlie silenced him with one raised eyebrow. He let out a sigh, and she nodded.

"You've been here for two years, and I bet you haven't even visited all the bars in town."  
"I'm twenty-eight, Charlie. I'm past the bar stage."

Charlie snorted.

"Lawyers are always past the bar stage. Get it?"

Sam groaned, and Charlie giggled. She shook her head.

"Seriously, though. There's a bar down on ... Fuller Avenue. My friends and I go there all the time, and it is the _perfect_ place for a hookup. I mean, not there. You'd take the hookup home with you. Although, if the men's restroom is as nice as the women's..."  
"Charlie!"

She blinked wide eyes at him, and Sam shuddered.

"We don't talk about womenly things, remember?"

Charlie rolled her eyes.

"Sorry I momentarily forgot about your aversion to vaginas."

Sam shuddered again, and Charlie just laughed. Her dark eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall and she stood up, grabbing her tablet from Sam's desk as it gave a chirp.

"Almost time for your consult. Are you ready, or should I have them wait a minute?"  
"What's the consult for?"

Charlie tapped on the tablet, pursing her lips as she skimmed the notes she'd made.

"New client, wanting to sue."  
"Oh, how different and refreshing."

Charlie giggled, and Sam flashed her a smile.

"You can send them in when they get here."  
"You got it, boss."

Charlie went for the door and Sam lifted his head from the legal pad he'd begun scratching notes onto.

"Hey, Charlie?"

She glanced over her shoulder, and he smiled again.

"Thanks."

She gave him a wink, then walked over to her desk. The smile stayed on Sam's face as he glanced down at his notes, "FULLER AVENUE" in big block letters. He underlined it once more, then shook his head. He stood up and pulled on his jacket, buttoning it up, straightening his tie. He liked to look his best for potential clients. He shook out his long arms, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. The old-fashioned intercom on his desk gave a buzz, and Sam rolled his eyes before he leaned forward, pressing the button.

"Yes, Charlie?"  
"Your eleven o'clock is here."  
"Thank you. Send them in."

Sam stayed standing behind his desk, concern washing over him when he saw his new client. Logically, the man had to be about fifty, but he seemed so much older. His face was haggard, gray hair shades darker than the almost white mustache on his face. His shoulders were stooped, his clothes wrinkled, and every step seemed to show how tired he had to be. Sam held out his hand, and the man shook it, meeting Sam's eyes. Sam swallowed, blinked once, then smiled.

"Sam Wesson."  
"Jack Keller."

Sam nodded, letting go of his hand.

"Have a seat, Mr. Keller, and let's get started."

\- - - - -

Sam narrowed his eyes as he read over the document Keller had handed him. Sam nodded, folding the pages back to the beginning, then setting the document aside. He grabbed a fresh yellow legal pad and a pen, popping the top off of it and looking at the man sitting before him. Sam cleared his throat, and the man lifted tired eyes to him. Sam shook his head, speaking softly.

"Mr. Keller, I am ... so sorry that you had to go through this."

The man nodded, looking down at his hands. Sam glanced to the document, gently tapping his fingers on it, then looked back.

"Mr. Keller--"  
"Call me Jack. Please."

Sam nodded.

"Jack, can you tell me exactly what happened? I know I have all the details here, but I want to hear it from you."

Jack gave a weary sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. 

"Nancy--my wife-- was sick. She had been for a long time. Months. Docs finally decided it was her gallbladder giving her so much trouble, and decided it needed to come out. Dr. Germany was our family doctor, had been for years, and he sent us over to the hospital. We met with a surgical intern, which is apparently the protocol, while this intern's resident listened and gave details when needed."

Sam nodded as he scratched a few things down as notes. He looked up, and Jack continued speaking.

"The surgery was supposed to make her better. When it was all over, the surgeon came out and said everything went perfectly. Nancy was going to spend the night for observation, being cared for by the intern, and I could take her home the next day."

Jack shook his head, voice going shaky.

"I got to see her, sit with her while the anesthesia wore off. When it got late in the evening, she sent me home to get her phone charger. She'd forgotten to pack it, and the boys were wanting to talk to her."  
"The boys?"

Jack nodded.

"Our sons, Jeffrey and Justin."

Sam nodded, and Jack rubbed a hand over his face before he spoke again.

"When I came back, Nancy was in the ICU, and the intern kept apologizing to me."

He sniffled, and Sam pushed a box of tissues across the desk. Jack nodded his thanks, then gave a sigh.

"The intern had given her some kind of medicine. It was the wrong kind, or he gave her too much. I don't ..."

Jack shook his head.

"I'm not a doctor. I don't really know what happened. All I know is that she was fine, then she was on life support, then she was gone."

He lifted his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. He met Sam's eyes, shaking his head.

"This never should have happened. Nancy shouldn't have died. We've got grandkids. She was supposed to fly to Montana for the littlest one's first birthday next month."

Sam swallowed, and Jack let out a shaky breath.

"I want them to pay for this."

Sam slowly nodded.

"Are you meaning the doctors, or the hospital, or ...?"  
"Yes."

Sam's eyes widened slightly, and he wrote another note on his pad. 

"Mr. Kell--Jack. I agree that this never should have happened. This sounds like a freak thing, an accident, but ... Someone lost their life here. You lost your wife, and that is just awful. I do have to tell you, suing hospitals, especially one as big as the one you went to ... It's a toss-up. Most of the time, they'll settle out of court."

jack shook his head.

"I'm not settling. I want everyone to know what happened, what kind of crap they've got working in that hospital."  
"O--okay. Take a breath."

Jack leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. Sam waited a moment, then picked up his pen.

"Let's start from the beginning. Your wife went to ...?"  
"Dr. Germany. Keith Germany. He's been our doctor ever since we got married back in '78."

Sam smiled as he nodded, writing on the pad.

"And he sent you to the hospital, where you spoke with ...?"  
"The intern's name is Baker. I'm not sure of his first name. Adam Milligan is his resident."  
"The one who just listened as you met with Baker?"

Jack nodded, and Sam wrote some more. 

"So Baker did the surgery on your wife?"  
"No, Baker is just an intern he ... scrubbed in, or something, but Winchester did the surgery."

Sam went still, pen poised above the yellow paper. He swallowed, blinked twice, then lifted his eyes to Jack's. 

"Winchester?"

Jack nodded.

"Dean Winchester. He's supposed to be the best. He is, according to Dr. Germany."

Sam set the pen aside, dragging a hand down his face, rubbing at the stubble coming in on his chin. He let out a long sigh, then lifted his eyes to the man sitting across from him.

"Mr. Keller, I am so very sorry, but I'm not going to be able to take your case."  
"What? Why not?"

Sam sighed, picking up his pen and pushing the top onto it.

"I'm afraid there's a conflict of interest."

The look on Jack's face imprinted itself on Sam's heart, and Sam sighed again.

"Dean Winchester is ... an old friend of mine. There is absolutely no possible way I can do the job you need me to do in a case against him."

jack sat back, letting out a breath. Sam gathered up the document and slid it back across the desk, shaking his head.

"I really am very sorry, for everything."

Jack nodded, reaching up and taking the document. He looked at it for a moment, then met Sam's eyes.

"Thank you for your honesty."

Sam nodded, giving him a small smile, and Jack stood up, turning and walking out of the office. Sam sat back in his chair, turning it around backwards, pushing his hands through his hair and letting out a breath. A knock at the door made him turn around, and he met Charlie's worried eyes. 

"Hey, Charlie."  
"Everything okay?"

Sam gave a laugh, then rubbed his hand over his forehead. 

"Not really."  
"Anything I can do to help?"

Sam sighed, speaking under his breath.

"Not unless you can change the past."  
"What?"

Sam looked up, giving Charlie a soft smile.

"No, but thanks. What ... what do I have to do now?"

He rubbed a hand over his forehead again, and Charlie left the room, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of pills in her hand. She opened the bottle and shook out two, handing them to Sam. He raised an eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes.

"It's Tylenol. For the headache you're brewing."  
"You're a goddess."  
"Surprisingly, you are not the first person to tell me that today."  
"Do I ... Nope. I do _not_ want to know."

Charlie let out a laugh, and her tablet gave a chirp. She tapped a finger onto it, then looked to Sam.

"Twenty minutes until lunch with the D.A."

Sam blew out a breath, then nodded. 

"Better get going."

Charlie nodded, and he stood up, shaking out his arms and buttoning his coat again.

"Hey, what you were talking about earlier?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, and Sam looked to her.

"The bar on Fuller?"

Charlie nodded and smiled.

"Chuck's."

Sam slowly nodded.

"Okay. Chuck's."  
"We're all meeting up tonight at eight since it's Friday. You want in?"

Sam looked down at his hands, then let out a breath. He lifted his eyes to Charlie's, and smiled.

"Yeah, I want in."

Charlie's mouth fell open, but quickly slid into a smile.

"Oh my gosh, this is going to be awesome!"

Sam smiled to himself as he gathered his briefcase, following a chattering Charlie out the door, rolling his eyes at her quiet squeals of excitement.


	3. Chapter 3

-three-

Sam threw back a shot, making a face and giving a cough after he swallowed. Charlie cackled as she leaned back in her chair, the girl sitting beside her, Gilda or something, leaning over and placing a hand on her thigh, laughing along with her. Sam shook his head, and the man behind the bar, a short, bearded guy with piercing blue eyes, watched him with a smirk on his face.

“What the hell was that?”  
“I call it the Hand of God.”

Sam shook his head again, baring his teeth for a moment.

“Can I have some water?”  
“Wimp.”

Sam looked back at Charlie, who tried to act nonchalant as she took a sip of her martini. Sam rolled his eyes, and Gilda gave Charlie’s leg a friendly smack.

“He just said earlier than he hasn’t done this in, like, two years. Go easy on him, Red.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, sitting up and smiling when she looked to the door.

“Kevin’s here! And he brought … crap.”  
“Brought who? What’s crap?”

Gilda pointed at a short, Asian kid who came walking in with a woman with dark, curly hair, a pixie face, and deep dimples carved into her cheeks.

“Stretch is new. Haven’t seen you around these parts.”  
“Meg, this is my boss. Sam, meet Kevin and Meg.”

Sam nodded to them, shaking Kevin’s hand. Meg slid into the seat next to Sam, crossing her legs, and Charlie snorted, leaning into Gilda as she laughed. Gilda swatted her arm, nuzzling into her as well. Kevin raised an eyebrow at the two of them, then looked to Sam.

“Am I missing something?”  
“Only Meg setting herself up for heartbreak.”

Everyone looked to Charlie, who shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s not a secret, is it? You don’t act like it’s a secret.”

Gilda leaned over, patting Sam’s hand.

“Gin makes her mouthy.”

Sam smiled.

“No, it’s not a secret.”  
“Because you don’t have to be secretive here. No one cares. Everyone loves everyone else.”  
“Christ, she’s making it out like this bar is an episode of Barney.”

Sam laughed, and Meg let out a sigh.

“You’re gay, aren’t you?”

Sam nodded, and she shook her head.

“The hot ones always are.”  
“Cas isn’t.”  
“That’s still to be determined, actually. Good evening, all.”

Sam glanced over at the man who walked up, wearing a beige trenchcoat over a suit, with a tie that matched his sapphire eyes. He leaned over Meg, holding a hand out to Sam.

“Castiel Novak. Cas, for short.”  
“Sam Wesson. Nice to meet you.”

Cas leaned back and looked at Meg, giving her a smile.

“Hi there.”  
“Hello.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, and Kevin walked back to the table with beers in hand. He gave one to Cas, one to Meg, and set one in front of Sam, before taking a sip from the last bottle. Sam looked over and Kevin shrugged his shoulders.

“You can’t sit with us and drink water. Even if you are Charlie’s boss.”

Cas set his bottle aside.

“Oh, _you’re_ Charlie’s boss?”

Sam smiled and nodded, and Cas pursed his lips.

“Small world.”

Gilda winked at Sam, then turned to Cas.

“So, how are things at the hospital?”  
“Oh, you know. Crazy people are running rampant in the city, I’m just locking them away one at a time.”

Sam took a sip of his beer and Cas leaned over.

“I’m not really locking anyone away. And I’m just joking about the ‘crazy’ thing. I’m a psychiatrist over at the hospital, and these lovely creatures love to joke about it.”  
“Well, I mean, if he’s friends with _us_ , how much good could he be doing other people, you know?”

Meg grinned, dimples shining in her cheeks, and Cas leaned closer to her, whispering something in her ear that made her blush and set her beer bottle aside. Sam licked his lips, then glanced out over the bar. The bartender was walking up onto the small stage, grabbing a guitar and smiling at the cheers that rose throughout the bar. Charlie smacked the table in front of Sam, who looked up and couldn’t help but smile at the joy on her face.

“Chuck sings!”  
“That’s Chuck? Like _the_ Chuck?”

Everyone nodded, and Kevin leaned over.

“He owns the bar, serves drinks, plays in a band, and does acoustic shows like this every now and then. Oh, hey! I heard Gabe was supposed to be filling in at the bar while Chuck’s on stage.”

Cas nodded.

“He is. Whether he rolled himself out of bed to be here on time, well that’s anybody’s guess.”

Sam met Meg’s eyes, who smirked at him before she leaned over.

“Gabe and Cas are brothers.”  
“Oh, that makes sense.”

Cas let out a laugh.

“Let me know when you’ve got a free hour—no … day or so. Then I’ll tell you the convoluted Novak family story. It’s a doozy.”

Sam smiled, turning towards the stage as a guitar began to play. Sam’s mouth dropped open before he spoke.

“No way. Is he doing “Purple Rain”?”  
“Chuck was a big Prince fan. Devastated him when the guy died. He does a good job on the song, though.”

Meg turned in her chair to face the stage, and Cas stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Meg rolled her eyes, but leaned into him, and Charlie leaned over, whispering loudly.

“Don’t worry. They do this all the time.”  
“And by ‘this,’ she means the wild thing.”

Everyone, including Cas and Meg, laughed at Gilda’s statement. They quieted as Chuck stepped up to the mic, and to Sam’s surprise, he did an amazing job on his cover of “Purple Rain.” Sam went to get everyone another round of beers, and passed them out to everyone while Chuck changed guitars, tuning up a new one. Cas untangled himself from Meg, glancing towards the door and smiling.

“Hey! I forgot to tell you guys, I invited one of my work friends to join us.”

He joined in on the chorus of good-natured groans that dissolved into laughter. Cas laid a hand on the table, tapping his fingers.

“He’s a good guy. Very cool. You guys will like him, I promise.”

Everyone turned towards the man walking to the table, and Sam felt his heart drop to his knees. His mouth dropped open as the breath caught in his chest, and he watched as familiar green eyes widened as they met his own eyes. Sam lifted a hand to absently rub at his chest, and the other man smiled as he walked up, bypassing the suddenly quiet table and standing in front of Sam.

“Well.”

Sam let out a quiet laugh.

“Well, indeed.”

Sam smiled, watching as the other man licked his lips, an ingrained habit that drove Sam absolutely insane. Sam nodded his head, speaking softly.

“Hello, Dean.”  
“Sammy. Long time no see.”  
“No kidding.”

At the distinctly feminine sound of a throat being cleared, Sam and Dean looked over to the table, meeting five pairs of expectant eyes. Cas looked from one to the other, then spoke.

“I take it you two know each other.”

Both men nodded, and Charlie and Gilda exchanged a glance before Gilda cleared her throat.

“You’re acquainted with each other, or you _know_ each other?”

Sam felt his face heat up and Charlie gasped.

“They _know_ each other!”

Meg and Cas exchanged a glance, and Dean lifted a hand, scratching at the back of his head. Kevin spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys get us another round from the bar?”  
“Ooh, good idea. Get them away so we can talk about them and speculate.”

Sam rolled his eyes, then looked at Dean, who was smiling at him.

“We can grab some beers.”

Sam nodded, falling into step beside Dean, mind going back to years prior. They stopped at the bar, seeing a man behind it that Sam didn’t recognize, with copper-colored hair. He was running around, mixing up fruity drinks, and after a moment, Sam glanced back at Dean, who shrugged his shoulders.

“I can wait.”

Sam smiled, nodding his head. He licked his lips, then looked to Dean.

“You look great.”  
“So do you. Swear you got taller.”

Sam laughed.

“I think—I _hope_ —I’ve finally stopped growing.”  
“Guess you finally grew into that ‘Sasquatch’ nickname.”

“Looks like it.”

Dean reached out and grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bar, dropping a few onto a napkin and sliding it towards Sam. Sam nodded his thanks, popping a pretzel into his mouth.

“So you work with Cas?”

Dean nodded.

“Kind of. We work at the same hospital, but he’s a shrink and I’m a surgeon.”  
“Finally did it, huh?”

Dean grinned.

“Slicing and dicing. Dream job, baby.”

Sam laughed, and Dean nodded to him.

“So you a big, bad attorney yet?”

Sam nodded.

“Moved here about two years ago, started up a practice. Charlie—that’s the redhead over there, making out with the brunette—she’s my assistant. Best friend. Jack of all trades, really.”

Dean nodded.

“I know how that goes.”  
“You still hear from Lisa?”

Dean smiled.

“She hits on me first day of med school, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. She works here, same hospital, pediatric oncology.”  
“Damn.”

Dean nodded.

“She’s a hell of a girl.”

Sam realized he was staring, then let out a sigh.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Dean let out a quiet laugh.

“I’ve missed you too, big guy.”

He reached over, almost pulling his hand back, then letting it rest on Sam’s arm. Sam took in a hitched breath, and Dean took a step closer.

“This is probably a bad idea.”

Sam nodded.

“Probably.”

They both nodded together, and Dean looked up to meet Sam’s eyes.

“You want to get out of here anyway?”  
“God, yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

-four-

Dean slammed the door, gasping when he was pressed against it, warm lips pressed against his. His hands came up, pushing through thick, silky hair, tugging gently just to see if the move would produce a throaty moan, the way he remembered it used to.

And it did.

Sam groaned as agile hands switched their positions, pushing him up against the door, pushing the jacket off his shoulders and grabbing his tie, pulling him closer. Plump lips pressed against Sam’s, and Sam raised his hands to cup Dean’s face as they kissed. Sam tilted his head back as Dean kissed down his neck, thrusting forward slightly, both of them groaning when their hips brushed against each other. Dean pulled back, lust-glazed eyes raking over Sam’s body.

“Christ, you’re huge.”

Sam let out a laugh, drawing Dean back in, kissing him again. Dean reached down, unbuttoning Sam’s shirt, while Sam found the hem of Dean’s and pushed it up. Dean took a step back, reaching behind his head and tugging the shirt off, shaking out his shoulders and dropping the shirt to the floor. Sam shook his head.

“That’s still the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dean gave him an absolutely wicked smile, and Sam pulled his tie over his head, shrugging the shirt off and letting it fall to the floor beside Dean’s. Dean’s eyes were huge when Sam looked back to him, and he slowly shook his head.

“Holy shit.”

Sam blinked, letting his head fall back with a loud groan as Dean stepped forward, rolling his palms down Sam’s muscular chest and torso. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sam, and he moved forward, kissing Dean’s lips again, laying his hands on Dean’s hips and walking him backwards, until they hit the bed and both went falling. They laughed, until Dean reached up and pushed a section of hair out of Sam’s face. Sam blinked, then let his face relax into a smile.

Sam went easily when Dean pressed his shoulder gently, rolling them and swapping their positions. Sam looked up at Dean as he sat back, biting on his bottom lip as Dean undid his belt buckle. Dean dropped the belt on the floor, then slowly unbuttoned Sam’s slacks, motioning with his head for Sam to lift his hips. The pants hit the floor, leaving Sam in nothing but a pair of Saxx boxer-briefs. Dean chuckled at that, eyes falling shut, quiet laugh trailing into a moan when Sam reached up and unbuttoned his jeans, slowly sliding the zipper down. 

“Sammy, I—“

Dean groaned again when Sam’s hand slid inside his jeans, and Sam let out a chuckle of his own.

“Laundry day?”  
“Don’t fucking stop. _Christ_ almighty.”

Sam laughed again, surging up to kiss and suck Dean’s neck as he ran his hand up and down Dean’s hardened length. Dean’s hands came to Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle as Sam continued to stroke him. Dean fell forward with a gasp when Sam twisted his wrist, then shook his head as a shaky hand closed around Sam’s.

“You got to … I can’t.”  
“You could.”  
“Not ‘til I’m inside you.”

Sam’s whole body gave a hard shake, and he nodded his head. Dean cupped his face again, kissing him softly and gently, and Sam laid back on the bed with a sigh. Dean sucked gently on his collarbone and Sam gasped, nodding his head. He watched as Dean leaned over, pulling the drawer to his nightstand open, digging for just a minute until he pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. He pressed the condom into Sam’s hand, then popped the top on the lube. 

Sam laid back, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He smiled when Dean’s lips pressed against his neck, letting out a sigh as he spread his legs and felt Dean situate himself between them. 

“You tell me if—“  
“Yes.”

Dean nodded, leaning in to kiss him once more. Sam lost himself in the kiss, and when he began to feel a gently probing fingertip at his entrance, he gave a sigh, forcing himself to relax. His head fell back onto the pillows, a whimper leaving his lips as Dean slid up his body, kissing the planes of his chest, nibbling gently on his collarbone, pressing a sucking kiss into the hollow of his throat. 

Three fingers in, Sam reached out and grabbed Dean’s face. Green eyes met stormy kaleidoscope ones, and Sam nodded.

“I’m ready.”  
“Sammy, I—“  
“I can’t wait anymore. Please.”

Dean swallowed, nodding his head. He reached for the condom, only to have Sam’s long fingers reach it first, and Dean watched as Sam tore the packet open, reaching out and taking hold of Dean’s cock, slowly rolling the condom onto it. Dean bit his lip, resting his head against Sam’s shoulder, lifting it and meeting those ever-changing eyes. Dean leaned forward and kissed him again, and Sam held his face, leaning back against the pillows. Dean pulled back slightly, speaking in a whisper.

“You know it’ll be easier if you turn on your back.”

Sam shook his head.

“I want to see you.”

Dean nodded, reaching down to stroke himself once, then positioning himself at Sam’s entrance.

“Breathe.”

Sam nodded, staring up at him as Dean began to slowly push inside. Sam gasped, head falling back, tendons standing out in his neck. Dean bent his head to gently bite at one, and Sam groaned, hands flying to Dean’s shoulders and gripping tightly.

“Sammy—“  
“Don’t stop. Please, God, don’t stop.”

Dean slid back just a bit, then pressed forward again. Sam relaxed as much as he could, groaning loudly when Dean bottomed out. He turned his head and Dean laid his forehead against Sam’s. Dean was muttering softly, voice interspersed with moans.

“Christ, you’re so hot. Like a fucking furnace inside. I missed you. God, I missed you so much.”

Sam’s fingers danced up and down Dean’s spine, and he lifted his head, seeing Sam’s gentle smile, hearing the soft words Sam spoke.

“I’m right here.”

Dean nodded, staring into Sam’s eyes as he slid backwards, then slowly pushed forward again. Sam groaned, eyes fluttering shut as Dean set up a rhythm. Dean’s hands slid down, taking hold of Sam’s wrists and lifting them up by his head. Sam groaned, moving his hands around until he could lace his fingers through Dean’s. Both of them groaned, and Sam shook his head.

“I’m not … I’m not gonna … oh, God.”

Dean leaned down, kissing his lips again, slipping his tongue into Sam’s mouth, and Sam groaned. Dean let go of one of his hands, which Sam immediately slid into Dean’s hair, and Dean reached between them, taking hold of Sam’s aching cock. Half a dozen hard, slow, _perfect_ strokes, and Sam turned his head away from Dean, squeezing his eyes shut, gasping and moaning as he came. He felt Dean’s lips against his neck a few seconds before Dean gave a guttural groan, hips pistoning fast before stilling as he came.

\- - - - -

Dean was lying back on the pillows, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. Sam’s head was on his stomach, and Dean was gently carding his fingers through Sam’s silky hair. Sam’s breathing had evened out a long time ago, one hand still entwined with Dean’s. Dean couldn’t help but smile as he stared at the man in his bed.

They’d been nearly inseparable years before, bumping into each other as newbie freshmen in college. Neither one of their assigned roommates had worked out, and they moved in together. At Christmas, they’d confessed their feelings, shocked that the other had felt the same, and they became a couple. For four years, they were like two halves of a whole. Everyone on campus knew who Sam and Dean were, so much that their names weren’t even separate anymore. Just SamandDean. 

Then Sam got into law school at Stanford. Dean got into medical school there too, but his first choice had always been Dartmouth, halfway across the country. After a long, drawn-out talk that spanned two days and countless tears, they split up. Sam and his broken heart went to sunny California, while Dean took his to New Hampshire. They had little to no contact with each other since then, only through social media and one regretful phone call when Dean had been a third-year intern. 

Sam stirred, stretching on the bed and giving a quiet groan. He moved his head, meeting Dean’s eyes, and Dean gave him a smile.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”

Sam smiled back, pushing himself forward and gently kissing Dean’s lips. When Sam pulled back, leaving Dean with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, he smiled, moving to brush his knuckles over Dean’s jaw. Dean blinked, cleared his throat, then nodded.

“I was thinking about a shower. You in?”

Sam reached down, smiling when he found what he’d been hoping he’d find.

“I’m thinking shower can wait until after round two.”  
“Round two?”

Sam tossed a leg over Dean’s waist, easily straddling him.

“You just lie back and let me do all the work.”  
 _“Oh god.”_


	5. Chapter 5

-five-

Sam stood at the stove, wearing a pair of sweatpants that were way too short for him and no shirt. He'd gone snooping through Dean's cabinets earlier, finding what he needed to make his specialty. To be honest, Sam didn't have time to cook, so his "specialty" was nothing more than scrambled eggs with a ton of cheese added in. Dean had a dozen fresh eggs, a block of cheese that Sam chopped up and grated, and some bread that Sam decided, on a whim, to make toast with. He had the toast sitting in the toaster, ready to be toasted when Dean got up.

He was trying his hardest to keep his mind on the cooking, but his thoughts kept drifting to the day before, the man who was trying his best to make someone pay for his wife's death. He was preparing to sue Dean, for something that Sam truly didn't believe was Dean's fault, and Dean didn't even know it.

Well ... He didn't know it _yet_.

Sam glanced back when he heard footsteps, and a smile spread over his face when Dean stepped into the kitchen, sweatpants slung low on his hips, a towel draped over his bare shoulders that he was using to rub through his still-wet hair. Sam turned back to the stove, stirring the eggs around, smiling again, letting out a soft laugh when Dean's arms wrapped around him from behind and Dean pressed his lips against Sam's shoulder.

"You cooking for me?"  
"My specialty."

Dean peered over Sam's shoulder.

"Cheesy eggs?"  
"Is there another way to cook eggs?"

Dean let out a laugh, kissing Sam's shoulder again. Sam motioned with his head towards the toaster.

"You can drop the toast for me, if you want."  
"I don't know if you want me to. That damn toaster hates me. Always burns my shit."  
"Why do you have it then?"  
"I'm sentimental."

Sam let out a laugh.

"'Too lazy to buy another one,' you mean."

Dean shrugged his shoulders and Sam shook his head.

"I've got it all set. Just push down the little lever."  
"So if the toast burns ..."  
"It will be my fault."

Dean smiled as he walked over, pressing the lever on the front of the toaster down. He turned and leaned up against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Sam, saw the concentration on his face as he stirred the eggs, sprinkling in handfuls of grated cheese and certain intervals. After a few quiet minutes, Sam glanced over, then smiled.

"What?"

Dean shook his head.

"Nothing."  
"Why you just standing there?"  
"I like to look at you."

Sam turned forward, blush coloring his cheeks. Dean stepped up, reaching to brush his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam's eyes drifted closed, before he blinked them open. Dean smiled at him.

"I like seeing you in my kitchen."

Sam swallowed, glancing at the pan just in time to give the eggs another stir, as the toast popped up from the toaster.

"I'm going to burn the eggs."  
"I'll grab the toast."

Sam turned and faced the pan again, huffing out a breath. He reached out and turned the stove off, spooning the eggs onto the two plates he'd gotten out of the cabinets earlier. It had only taken a minor search to locate plates and cups, and he'd been able to figure out Dean's coffee maker, which was now spurting out coffee. Dean set a piece of perfectly toasted bread on each of the plates, shaking his head as he turned to the coffeepot. Sam just laughed, sitting down in one of the chairs. He smiled up at Dean when a mug of steaming coffee was set before him, the smile slipping slightly when he saw the perfectly caramel color of the coffee. He lifted his head, watching Dean take a sip from his mug, then pick up his fork. He glanced at Sam, straightening in his seat.

"What?"  
"My ... coffee."

Dean nodded, raising his eyebrows. Sam blinked.

"You remembered?"

Dean gave a soft smile.

"Some things are hard to forget."

Sam nodded, blinking again as he looked down at his plate. He let out a soft laugh, eyes closing when he felt Dean's bare foot brush over his own. Sam shook his head as he picked up his fork.

"God, I've missed this."  
"Breakfast?"

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean cackled.

"No, you jerk. Breakfast with you."

Dean gave him a smile before shoveling more eggs into his mouth. They were quiet for a while, both of them too busy eating to talk--understandable, since cold eggs are disgusting--but when the eggs were gone, Sam felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. 

He had to tell him. Dean deserved to know.

Sam didn't notice his empty plate sliding out from in front of him, nor did he make a move when Dean rinsed the plates and set them in the dishwasher. When the kitchen was tidy again, Dean leaned up against the counter, staring at the man at the table, who was staring off into space, a worried look on his face. He walked over behind Sam, laying his hands on his shoulders, gently massaging. Sam jolted at the initial touch, then relaxed with a sigh. Dean leaned down, whispering into Sam's ear.

"Where'd you go, big guy?"

Sam let out another sigh, leaning back onto Dean. 

"I have something to tell you."  
"Oh, god. You're not married or straight or something, are you?"

Sam laughed, reaching around to swat Dean's backside.

"Seriously?"  
"Hey, it's been a long time."  
"No, you jerk. I'm not married, and after last night, I'm pretty damn certain neither one of us is straight."

Dean pursed his lips, then nodded. Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Will you come sit down?"  
"Is it that bad?"

Sam let out a breath, and Dean walked around the table, sitting back in the seat he'd occupied earlier, across from Sam. Sam let out a sigh, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and clasping his hands together. 

"I moved here two years ago. I had no idea where you were, absolutely no clue that you were here, or I promise, I would have scoped you out before now."

Dean smiled, and Sam couldn't help but smile back at him. He continued with his speech.

"I never go out with Charlie and her friends. Never before last night. That was the first time."

Dean nodded.

"Cas invites me all the time, but I never go either. Not until last night. Must have been fate or some other bullshit like that, huh?"

Sam let out a laugh.

"Must have been."

Sam licked his lips, staring at his hands for a moment before speaking again. 

"I had a client yesterday come into my office. Never met him before, listened to his story, let him tell me what he wanted to do."

Sam lifted his eyes then.

"And what he wanted to do was ... sue you."  
"Me?"  
"Does the name Jack Keller mean anything to you?"

Sam watched all of the color drain out of Dean's face, making his eyes seem like glittering emeralds in his snow-white face. Dean scrambled to get up from the table, stumbling to the sink and grabbing hold of it. Sam stood up, walking to him, stopping when Dean held up a shaking hand at him. Neither one said anything for a moment, and Sam watched as Dean moved a shaky hand to turn the cold water on. He cupped his hands together beneath the stream, then splashed the cold water on his face. He gasped, then did it again, before reaching to turn the water back off. He tore a paper towel from the roll, pressing it to his face, then turned to face Sam, eyes hard.

"He's going to do it. He's going to sue me, and you're going to help him?"  
"What? No."  
"Then what the fuck are you telling me, Sam?"

Sam swallowed. The way Dean said his name was always jarring to him, since he'd gotten so used to hearing Dean call him "Sammy," or "baby," or some other pet name. Sam shook his head, stepping forward, but stopping when Dean took a step back, hitting the sink. Sam shook his head.

"I'm not helping him. As soon as he said your name, I told him I couldn't help him."  
"What?"

Sam sighed.

"Aside from the complete shock that you were here, so close and I didn't even know it, I could never fight against you in court. I don't even know the whole story, but I'm on your side. I was all for that man, ready to fight whatever medical corporation I needed to, in order to get him some peace, but as soon as he said your name, I was ready to bury him."

Dean blinked, standing his ground this time when Sam took another step forward.

"I told you once before that I would back your play, no matter what. I meant it, Dean. I meant it then, and I still mean it now."  
"Sammy, what are you...?"

Sam pushed a hand through his hair, then let out a laugh.

"I don't know. I think ..."

He was in front of Dean now, and he reached out, taking hold of his hand.

"I don't think Keller's going to stop until he finds someone who'll do what he wants."

Dean nodded.

"And what he wants is to sue me."

Sam nodded, and when Dean closed his eyes, Sam gave his hand a squeeze.

"But to do that, he's going to have to go through me."

Dean's eyes widened, going from Sam's face to their hands, then back. Dean shook his head, and Sam spoke.

"I'm sure your hospital's got a team of lawyers, right?"

Dean nodded, and Sam went on.

"Their goal is to protect the hospital. If they can settle, they will. Even better, if they can get Keller to back off the hospital and just go for the doctors, they will."

Dean swallowed, and Sam squeezed his hand again.

"You need someone on your side, looking out for you, and I can do that. Let me be your lawyer, and I'll save you."  
"Seriously?"

Sam let out a laugh.

"Yes."  
"You don't even know the whole story."  
"Well, Keller hasn't found someone stupid enough to take on his case yet. We've got time. You'll tell me the whole story, and we can go from there."  
"Just like that? No details, no concrete evidence that I'm innocent, and you want to be my lawyer?"

Sam gave Dean's hand a gentle tug, pulling him closer.

"Just from this morning, what we've talked about here, I know you didn't do anything wrong. More than that, I know _you_ , Dean. That man is looking to make someone pay, and I will be damned if I let that someone be you."

Dean reached up, taking hold of Sam's face, pulling it down, locking their lips together. Sam's hands flew to Dean's hips, pulling him closer. He laced his arms around Dean, could almost feel the desperation as Dean's arms came around him, fingers digging into his back. Sam moved to press Dean against the wall, swallowing the groan that slipped from Dean's throat. Sam reached for Dean's sweats, pushing them down, grabbing hold of his cock as it sprang free. He stroked it, gritting his teeth together as Dean's nails dug into his back, groaning when Dean bit down on his earlobe before murmuring to him.

"Fuck me."

Sam pulled back and watched Dean lean forward, pull open a drawer and dig around in it. He pulled a condom out and held it up, and Sam took it from him, leaning in to kiss him some more. When they pulled apart again, both of them panting for breath, Sam took Dean's chin in one of his hands.

"Lube."

Dean shook his head.

"We don't need it."  
"Dean--"  
"The condom's lubricated, and I'm ready."  
"I'm not--"  
"The shower. I got ready in the shower."

Sam stared into his eyes for a moment, gasping when Dean sank to his knees, pulling the sweatpants down Sam's legs, taking his cock into his mouth as soon as it sprang free. Sam's hand shot down, cupping the back of Dean's head, groaning as Dean swallowed around him. Sam shook his head, gasping again when Dean pulled off, ripping the condom open and sliding it on him. Dean stood back up, taking Sam's face in his hands, kissing him again. Sam took hold of Dean's hips, lifting him up, pressing his back against the wall. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, groaning as Sam began pressing in. Dean leaned forward, burying his face in Sam's shoulder, and Sam gritted his teeth again, continuing his slow press forward. Sam groaned, biting out the words.

"Christ, you're tight."  
"You're fucking huge. My _god_."

Both of them huffed out a breath when Sam bottomed out, and Sam slapped a hand against the wall. Dean dug his fingers into Sam's back, one hand sliding up into his hair and giving a tug. Sam groaned, moving his hips, and Dean whimpered, then gave Sam's hair another pull. Sam growled, hands gripping Dean's waist again as he began pounding into him. Dean moaned and let out a laugh, hands scrabbling to hold Sam close as he could. 

Sam shook his head.

"I'm not going to last."

He kept up the brutal rhythm, pounding into Dean unrelentlessly, and Sam stared with wide eyes when Dean let out a shout, milky-white spurts landing on both of them as he came. Sam bent his head, sucking hard on Dean's neck, groaning into his sweaty skin, hips stilling as he came hard enough to whiteout his vision.


	6. Chapter 6

-six-

Dean ran a hand down his face, then leaned it against the cool glass. Maybe he should feel bad about the smudge he was sure he'd be leaving, but that wasn't something he could worry about right now. Everything seemed to be piling up, threatening to suffocate Dean. But, it hadn't all been bad.

In the month since Sam had come back into his life, he realized he'd never been happier. It was like old times, when they were young and dumb and all they had was each other. Now, they had bills and jobs and responsibilities, and somehow, they'd found each other again. Sam had all but moved into Dean's house, and when he wasn't there or at the office, Dean was finding ways to make himself at home in Sam's apartment. 

At least, that was until two weeks ago.

\- - - - - 

They'd been out at the bar with Charlie and her gang. Cas and Meg were making out in one dusty, dark corner, and Charlie and Gilda were making out in another. Kevin was dancing with a blonde girl that looked familiar to Dean, for reasons he couldn't figure out, and Dean and Sam were at the bar, chatting with Gabe and some tall, serious guy who'd introduced himself as Gad. Just "Gad."

A beautiful redhead had made her way to the bar, glancing over and locking eyes with Dean. He blinked at her almost-ethereal appearance, red hair starkly contrasted by her porcelain white skin. She blinked dark eyes, stepping forward, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Excuse me."

Dean nodded, stepping away from Sam's side, smiling at the girl. She smiled back at him, speaking softly.

"Are you Dean Winchester?"  
"Yes."  
"Doctor Dean Winchester?"

Dean nodded again, the smile staying on his face. The girl gave a sigh, then reached into the bag at her hip, pulling out a manila folder.

"You've been served."

Dean blinked, looking from the girl to the envelope in her hands. He looked back to her face, seeing the sorrowful expression, and he licked his lips before he took the folder from her. She nodded, then stepped away. Dean turned around and bumped into Sam, who was standing behind him, eyes locked on the girl as she left. He looked into Dean's eyes, giving a sigh when he saw the folder.

"Damn it."

Dean handed the folder to Sam, trying to ignore how he was shaking. Sam tore open the folder, pulling out a page and rubbing a hand over his mouth. He lifted his eyes from the page and stared at Dean, then leaned forward and kissed him gently. After a moment, Sam leaned back, resting his forehead on Dean's. Dean closed his eyes.

"He's suing, isn't he."  
"Yeah, he is."  
"Everyone, or ...?"  
"Just you and your intern."

Dean's knees buckled, but Sam easily caught him.

"Listen to me. You're going to be fine. I'm not going to let him take you down. No matter what he says, what you hear. I've got you."  
"Sammy."  
"Let's go home, okay?"

Dean just nodded, and Sam wrapped an arm around him, walking him outside, completely bypassing the concerned looks on their friends' faces.

\- - - - - 

Dean leaned back, looking at the sole baby in the nursery, a beautiful little girl with chocolate-brown skin. She was sleeping peacefully, swaddled in a blanket with yellow ducks on it, a pink hat on her little head.

Dean hadn't been able to sleep since he'd gotten served the papers. Not alone, anyway. 

The only way he could sleep was with Sam. Both of them tangled together, wrapped around each other like vines. The peace that Dean used to feel at the nursery window was slipping away from him, but he felt almost the same way when Sam was near him. There had been many nights when he and Sam had just sat on the couch, not watching TV, not talking. Just sitting there. Dean usually curled up next to Sam, resting his head on Sam's shoulder. And then other times, Sam could stretch out across the couch and put his head in Dean's lap, soaking in the feel of Dean's fingers slipping through his hair. 

Dean felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he let out a sigh, then dug it out. He smiled when he saw the name, then lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hey, you."  
_"Hey back."_

Dean walked away from the nursery, sitting down on a bottom bunk in an on-call room. He licked his lips, then spoke.

"Anything new?"

A sigh filled the line.

_"No. Nothing except this Crowley guy being a dick. Although, I think his attitude comes from the fact that he knows he doesn't have a case. And if he pursues it, he's going to crash and burn in a spectacular fashion. At least, he will if I have anything to do with it."_

Dean smiled.

_"Anyway, what I called for was, are you going to get off at a decent time tonight?"_  
"Uh, yeah. I kind of need to talk to you about that."  
_"What? Why?"_

Dean sighed.

"The lawyers got wind of the lawsuit. They think it's in my best interest to stay away from the O.R. for a while."  
_"Are you shitting me?"_  
"No?"

Another sigh filled the line, and Dean could almost hear Sam dragging a hand down his face.

_"Don't let this get to you, okay? When we're done with this lawsuit, I'll show those pieces of shit what happens when you mess with me."_

Dean couldn't help the smile that came over his face.

"I got to tell you, I'm not hating this badass He-Man attitude thing you've got going on."  
_"You just wait 'til tonight."_

Dean let out a laugh. 

"Looking forward to it."  
_"Listen, I just wanted to ... Oh, hell. I just wanted to hear your voice, really."_  
"You sentimental little bitch."

Sam's laughter filled the line, and Dean smiled widely.

_"I've got to go, but I'll see you later?"_  
"Absolutely. You've got a ... thing to follow through on, you know?"

Sam cleared his throat, and Dean let out a laugh. 

"You good, baby?"  
_"I'm going to show you 'good' later tonight."_

Dean laughed again, going still when Sam's final words came through the phone.

_"I seriously have to hang up right this second. I'll talk to you later, okay? Love you."_

The call ended, and the phone slipped from his hand. Dean sat there staring at his phone for the longest time, until the door to the on-call room swung open.

"Ha! There you are!"

Dean blinked as he looked over, seeing a perky blonde in sky blue scrubs. He blinked again, then shook his head.

"Jo?"  
"Dr. Harvelle here, Dr. Winchester."

Dean rolled his eyes. 

"Your mother is Dr. Harvelle. You're an intern."  
"Still got that MD behind my name. I'm just putting it into practice now."

Dean rolled his eyes again, then leaned back against the bed.

"Hey. Were you at Chuck's the other night? Well, a few weeks ago, really."  
"The bar? Yeah. Yeah, a few of the other interns sometimes get together at a bar. Last time we went out, it was to Chuck's."

Dean nodded.

"I think I saw you dancing with one of my friends."  
"Kevin's your friend?"

Dean nodded, and Jo let out a laugh.

"That's awesome! He and I didn't really hit it off, but he and Marie definitely did."  
"Really?"  
"Oh, yeah."

Dean laughed to himself, shaking his head. Jo pressed her lips together, then sighed.

"Dr. Braeden sent me to find you."  
"She still on a rampage?"

Jo shrugged her shoulders.

"She's not so bad."  
"Not yet."  
"What?"

Dean shook his head, clearing his throat.

"You know where she is?"  
"Cafeteria, I think. And if not there, the catwalk."  
"Thanks, Jo. Sorry. Dr. Harvelle."

Jo grinned as she laid back, letting out a sigh.

"Or, as most of us refer to you, Little Harvelle."  
"Hey!"

Dean laughed as he closed the door, walking to the stairs and heading down for the cafeteria.

\- - - - - 

Sam walked into the house, dropping his briefcase by the door. He locked the door behind him and shrugged off his jacket, then loosened his tie.

"Dean? You here?"  
"Kitchen!"

Sam smiled, toeing off his shoes and walking towards the kitchen, stopping at the doorway and leaning against it. 

"Hello, gorgeous."

Dean snorted, turning back from the cabinet where he was getting plates down, setting them on the table. Sam walked in, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Did you cook?"  
"Hell, no. Pizza's on the way."

Sam laughed, and when Dean turned back from the table, Sam set his hands on Dean's hips, pulling him close and gently kissing him. Dean sighed into the kiss, reaching his hands up to thread through Sam's hair, tugging gently and smiling when Sam gave a quiet moan. They broke apart, and Sam kissed the end of Dean's nose before he stepped to the refrigerator. 

"I've got some news for you."  
"I'm all ears."

Sam grabbed a bottle of water and drained it, tossing the bottle into the trashcan. He turned back and watched Dean, who grabbed his wallet and walked towards the front door just as the doorbell rang. Sam shook his head, smiling when Dean walked back into the room with pizza boxes in his hands.

"What?"  
"It's like you're psychic when it comes to food."  
"Just one of my many gifts, baby."

Sam shook his head, smiling widely as Dean set the pizzas down. Dean looked over at him, lifting his chin.

"Hey, what did you have to tell me?"

Sam smiled, looking down at his hands. He reached up and undid his tie, sliding it off of his neck. he unbuttoned the sleeves of his white shirt, smiling when he saw Dean's eyes staring at the skin he'd just exposed. Sam cleared his throat, and Dean shook his head, meeting Sam's eyes again. Sam stepped closer, laying his hands on Dean's shoulders.

"I think I've got an idea."  
"Oh, crap."

Dean moved out of the way when Sam swatted at him, laughing the whole time. Dean held up his hands, shaking his head.

"Sorry. I'm sorry."  
"You're an asshole."  
"This is true." 

Sam sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.

"Anyway, I've got a plan. I think."  
"You think?"  
"It's kind of a toss-up."  
"What are you going to do?"

Sam licked his lips, biting down on his bottom one, then met Dean's eyes.

"Do you really want to know?"

Dean sighed.

"Not really."

Sam stepped forward, cupping Dean's face in his hands.

"Just trust me, baby."  
"I do."

Sam smiled, nodding his head.

"Good."

Sam leaned in for a kiss, then turned to grab his plate, popping open the pizza box. Dean licked his lips, swallowing, then speaking.

"I love you, too."

Sam set the plate on the table, then whirled around.

"What?"

Dean smiled.

"Earlier today, when you called, you said that you love me."  
"No, I didn't."  
"Yes, you did. You said that you had to hang up right then, but that you'd talk to me later, and you loved me."

Sam's eyes were wide and scared.

"Crap."

Dean bit his lip, fighting back the smile.

"So you don't?"  
"What? No! I mean, yes, I ..."

Sam blew out a breath.

"I do. I just ... didn't want to tell you this way."

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know, I kind of ... I liked hearing it. Kinda shocked me, I'm not gonna lie. But it was nice."

Sam nodded his head. After a moment, he lifted his eyes, looking right into Dean's.

"I do love you."

Dean smiled.

"I love you, too."

Sam smiled as Dean walked around the table, wrapping his arms around him as Dean did the same, their lips meeting and melding together. After a few heated minutes, where Sam's shirt somehow came unbuttoned and Dean's scrub top ended up thrown in front of the oven, Dean looked up into Sam's eyes.

"Cold pizza for breakfast?"  
"Fucking excellent plan."

Dean laughed as he grabbed Sam's hand, dragging him into the bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

-seven-

On the fifth week after his surgery privileges had been all but removed, Dean thought he might be going crazy. He'd done all the paperwork he could do, continued to see patients in a non-surgical capacity, gave Lisa advice when her hormones got the better of her, and spent every possible moment with Sam. Which wasn't a lot, since Sam was working his ass off to get ready for Dean's upcoming trial. Jack Keller was determined to make someone pay, his lawyer out to make someone an example, and Dean often wondered what his life would be like once his medical license was revoked.

That usually made him sick to his stomach, and he'd find himself in the hospital's nursery or on the phone with Sam. 

There didn't seem to be an end in sight, except for the trial date, which was looming closer and closer.

\- - - - - 

Dean leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He heard a knock at the door and cracked one eye open to see Castiel standing before him. He sighed, waving a hand, and Cas walked in, shedding his white coat and plopping himself on the couch in Dean's office. Dean closed his eye again, listening to Cas sigh.

"How are you doing?"  
"Just swell. You?"  
"Well, I could use some advice on how to proceed with Meg."

Dean opened his eyes, turning in his chair to face Cas, who had a wide smile on his face.

"Made you look."

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head, and Cas leaned forward.

"I just wanted to come talk to you, see how you were doing."  
"I can't do surgery. I can't even see patients in a post-op capacity. I'm losing my fucking mind, Cas. I need to cut on something, but the lawyers won't budge. The fact that they're still letting me work at all is nothing short of a fucking miracle, and I think that's only because Sam called up here and gave them a piece of his mind."  
"Yeah, I heard about that."

Dean nodded, then sighed. 

"I'm scared the trial will end in Keller's favor."  
"You think you'll lose?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Sam's been working so hard. I know he's a great lawyer, I _know_ that, but ..."  
"But what?"  
"What if it's not him? What if this is what I deserve?"

Cas leaned back on the couch, eyebrows drawn together, a look of confusion on his face.

"You think you deserve this?"

Dean shrugged again, staring down at his desk.

"I can promise you, this is not because of anything you have done. There's not a doubt in my mind that Sam will get you out of this relatively unscathed."  
"But Cas, I--"  
"Stop. You didn't do anything wrong. I've been over the notes for the case."  
"What?"

Cas shrugged this time.

"Sam wanted a professional opinion."  
"And he picked you?"  
"Oh, he's so funny with his jokes."

Cas rolled his eyes.

"You did everything according to policy. Everything, Dean, down to the letter. Baker's the one at fault here. If anyone's losing their medical license, it will be him. Not you."

Dean licked his lips, and Cas sighed.

"I know you've been beating yourself up over this ever since it happened."  
"It never should have happened."  
"I agree. But it is not your fault. And I know we've all told you that, multiple times, and it still doesn't sink in."

Dean didn't look up from his desk, and Cas sighed again, pushing a hand through his coal-black hair.

"My first year as a resident, I had this patient. His name was Nick Michaels, and he was a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought he was Lucifer."  
"The devil?"  
"Eh, more of the fallen angel. He kept telling me that he'd been raised through the breaking of the 66 Seals and that he was to bring about the Apocalypse."

Dean nodded, and Cas went on.

"We tried everything with him. Meds, therapies, solitary confinement. He spent all of his time in solitary singing "Stairway to Heaven." Talk about ironic."

Dean couldn't help but smile, and it quickly slid from his face. Cas shook his head, speaking softly.

"One Friday afternoon, he was in my office. He kept saying that the voices were back, and they were telling him these terrible, awful things. Things that he had done. I assured him that the voices lied, that he hadn't done anything they said. I told him that he was fine, that he was strong enough to fight the voices. I gave him a couple of pills and told him that I'd see him again on Monday."

Cas nodded, staring at the floor in front of him.

"He went home and slit his own throat."  
"Jesus."

Cas nodded again.

"I still haven't forgiven myself for that one. I should have made him stay and talk longer. I shouldn't have let him go home. I should have locked him up again."  
"Cas, you ... You did everything you could. How many times had he come into your office and done the same exact thing?"  
"It didn't matter. That one time that he really needed me, I brushed him off."  
"How could you have known that time was _the_ time?"

Cas lifted his head, sapphire blue eyes locking onto Dean's.

"Same way you thought everything was fine with Mrs. Keller."

Dean blinked, and Cas shrugged his shoulders. 

"I think we all have that one. The one where you did everything right, everything you could possibly do, and it still wasn't enough. And everyone in the world can tell you that it wasn't your fault, that you did what you could, and you'd still blame yourself."

Dean nodded, and Cas let out a sigh. He stood up, gathered his jacket, and stood in front of Dean.

"Trust that Sam knows what he's doing. He'll get you through this, I promise."

Dean slowly nodded, and Cas walked to the door.

"Hey, Cas?"

Cas turned back, eyebrows raised in expectation. Dean smiled.

"Thanks."

Cas smiled back.

"Anytime, Dean."

Cas left his office, closing the door behind him, and Dean put his elbows on his desk, burying his face in his hands.

\- - - - - 

Dean sat at the table, staring at the salad he'd thrown together, wrinkling his nose. He tried to like salads, mainly because they were one of Sam's favorite things, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Salads tasted like leafy sadness to him, and he hated it. There were chunks of chicken in the salad, and Dean was seriously thinking about picking out all the chicken and the croutons and eating those, leaving the rabbit food for Sam. The door opened and closed, and Dean lifted his head, smiling when a disheveled Sam stood in the doorway. Dean raised his eyebrows, seeing the almost wild smile on Sam's face.

"Counselor, no offense, but you look a bit haggard."  
"I don't care. They dropped the charges."

Dean's eyes widened.

"Wh ... what?"  
"They dropped the charges against you."

Dean shook his head, and Sam rounded the table, going to his knees and taking Dean's hands in his. 

"My little plan worked beautifully. The judge threw out every charge against you. Baker's still going down, and down hard, but you're off. No more worries, Dean. We're free."

Dean slid off of the chair, wrapping his arms around Sam. Sam let out a laugh, gathering Dean into his arms, moving to sit on the floor, holding Dean in his lap. Dean's voice was small and quiet.

"It's over?"  
"It's over, baby. You're free to be any kind of doctor you want."

Dean nodded, closing his eyes. When Sam felt the front of his shirt grow damp, he let out a laugh, tears leaking out of his own eyes.

"God, I've been so frantic about this fucking case. I did my best to save you, and it worked."  
"Sammy."  
"I've got you, Dean. I did it. I got the charges thrown out, and you're free."  
"I love you so much."

Sam let out another laugh.

"God, I love you."

He pushed Dean's shoulder until he leaned back, and Sam kissed him, tasting the salt from his tears. He cradled Dean's head in his hands, kissing him gently and sweetly, laying him on the floor and coming over him, lips never straying. Dean tugged Sam's shirt up until he could touch golden skin, fingers dancing across chiseled muscles. Sam groaned, placing his hands on either side of Dean's head, pushing himself up. Dean sat up a bit, undoing Sam's belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, pushing them down just enough to free his rapidly-hardening cock. Dean pushed his own scrub pants and boxers down, head falling back hard on the floor when Sam slid his hips over Dean's.

"Oh, god."  
"Just let go, baby."

Dean nodded, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck, groaning as the delicious friction increased. Dean kissed Sam's throat, sucking an impressive hickey just under Sam's jaw. Dean's body started trembling as Sam's breathing sped up, and they hit the climax at the same time, gasping and groaning in unison as warm spurts of come coated their stomachs.

\- - - - - 

Dean walked into what he thought was an empty operating room the next morning, only to be met with his usual surgical team in their masks and caps, clapping and cheering for him. He laughed for the longest time, hugging each and every one of them, giving special attention to Jo Harvelle, who whispered that there was no one else she'd want to learn from, other than her own mother. Dean had laughed, kissing her on the cheek as best he could through his own face mask.

He'd gone to the emergency room for a few consults, none of which turned out to be immediate surgical situations. He ignored the televisions on the walls, a habit long-ingrained, and focused on patient charts and intern questions instead. He looked up at a shrill whistle, seeing Bobby Singer, his surrogate uncle and chief of surgery hanging up a phone.

"All right, people, listen up. We've got a bevy of gunshot victims coming in."  
"So it's true?"

Dean glanced over, seeing Adam Milligan, a first-year resident step up beside him.

"Someone really went on a shooting rampage this morning?"

Bobby sighed, but nodded.

"Every available surgeon needs to be scrubbed in STAT. Interns and residents, prepare to triage. The most critical cases get sent straight to the O.R. Emergent, but not critical can go to C.T., and someone get the portable x-ray and ultrasounds up here."

Dean watched Jo run for a phone, placing a call to radiology. They all glanced to the doors as sirens began screaming, and Bobby nodded.

"Let's get to work!"

He met Dean's eyes, and in a special, silent way they had, Bobby told him that he'd triage what he could, but Dean should go scrub in and prepare for the worst. Dean nodded, turning and leaving the sudden chaos, running for the stairs and up to the operating rooms.

\- - - - - 

Dean licked his lips as he tied his scrub cap on, cracking his neck before reaching up and tying the mask over his nose and mouth. He let out a breath, then stepped on the pedal that turned on the water in the industrial sink. He grabbed a soap packet and opened it, soaping his hands and forearms, paying special attention to his fingernails. The door opened and he glanced back, giving a nod to Benny Lafitte, a cardiothoracic surgeon. Benny shook his head, grabbing a mask and tying it around his neck.

"Sounds like a shitstorm, brother."

Dean nodded, washing the soap off of his arms, then re-applying it. Benny tied the other end of the mask, fitting it around his nose, then reaching for a soap. They both glanced at the door as it opened again, and a tall redhead walked in. She pushed her hair into the daisy-printed scrub cap, tying it and shaking her head.

"The other scrub rooms are full."

Dean and Benny nodded, and the woman smiled as she reached for a mask.

"Dr. Winchester, glad to have you back."

Dean smiled.

"Thanks, Josie."

He shook the extra water off of his hands, walking to the door and pushing it open with his back. Josie turned to the man with the ice blue eyes that was rinsing off his arms and she smiled.

"Dr. Lafitte."  
"Dr. Sands. Good to see you again."  
"Likewise."

Benny walked to the door, eyes smiling above his mask.

"See you when the bloodbath begins."  
"Looking forward to it."

\- - - - - 

"Suction."  
"We've got to get these bleeders under control."  
"Bring the x-ray back over. Where the hell was that damn bullet?"

Dean blew out a breath, holding out his hand. A pair of scissors were placed onto his palm, and he grasped them as he made a cut. He handed the scissors back and lifted the patient's spleen out. He shook his head.

"Spleen wasn't salvageable. Kidney seems okay, though. What about on the right side?"

Josie shook her head.

"Liver's got a deep lac. Belly keeps filling up with blood, and I can't find the damn source."  
"Everybody stop!"

They looked towards Benny, who closed his eyes, hands moving as the room went silent. After a few endless minutes, Benny blinked his eyes open, shaking his head. He lifted his hands, one holding a hemostat with a bullet at the end of it.

"You found it."  
"Real fucking close to the aorta, but we're in the clear."  
"Not down here. Pull up the abdomen x-rays again, please."

Dean and Josie looked back to the x-rays, both pointing at the second bullet.

"Is it in the intestines?"  
"Got to be. Harvelle!"

Jo stepped up, eyes wide. Dean nodded to her.

"Get scrubbed in. You ever ran a bowel?"

She nodded, and he did the same.

"Good. Go."

She hurried from the room, and Dean shook his head.

"Who was this guy?"

An intern stepped forward, scanning through the patient's personal belongings.

"Mark Cain. Apparently, he's a lawyer or something? Runs a big firm downtown, it looks like."  
"So some idiot shot up a law firm?"  
"I think so, sir."

Dean shook his head. Beeps filled the room, and a nurse, a perky blonde from Minnesota, spoke up.

"Dr. Winchester, your pager is just going crazy."  
"Who is it, Donna?"  
"Looks like Dr. Braeden."  
"Shit. Can you call her and see what she wants? Tell her I'm elbow-deep in a patient's abdomen right now."  
"Right away, sir."

Dean shook his head, nodding as Jo stepped up to the table beside him.

"I want you to go behind me and make sure I didn't miss anything."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Be gentle, and if you see anything out of the ordinary, let me know."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Stop calling me 'sir.'"  
"Yes, si--Okay."

Dean, Josie, and Benny let out a laugh, and Jo began a meticulous search of the patient's bowel. 

"Dr. Winchester?"  
"What, Donna?"  
"Dr. Braeden, she says that it's urgent."  
"Did you tell her I'm in surgery?"  
"Yes, and she--"

They glanced towards the door as Bobby stepped in, immediately walking to a nurse and getting a towel, drying off his hands.

"Dean, scrub out."  
"What? What's going on here?"  
"Dean."

Dean took a step from the table, shaking his head.

"What the hell's going on? What's wrong? Is it Lisa?"  
"No."  
"Bobby, tell me."

Bobby let out a sigh.

"Second ambulance came in a few minutes ago."  
"Okay?"  
"Sam Wesson was on it."

Dean felt like all the blood in his system turned into ice.

"Wh ... what?"

Bobby sighed again.

"Jack Keller was the one who shot up the law office. Sam's law office. They're bringing Sam into O.R. two."  
"How bad is it?"  
"Dean--"  
"How bad is it?!"

Bobby didn't answer, but Josie did.

"Bad."

Dean looked to her, and she shook her head.

"If he's in here, it's bad. You need to go now."

Dean felt like he was underwater, like it was suddenly hard to move. He felt a gentle touch on his arm, standing still as Donna pulled his surgical gear off. When he was in his scrub cap and mask, Dean took off running, yanking open the door and not stopping until he yanked open the door to O.R. two.


	8. Chapter 8

-eight-

Dean was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, head in his hands. He felt someone walk up and sit beside him, a few seconds before someone sat on the other side. He didn't move, didn't open his eyes, but somehow knew that Lisa and Cas had found him. He sniffled, then felt a gentle hand rub his back while Lisa's soothing voice broke the silence.

"Jack Keller died twenty minutes ago from a police sniper."

Dean sniffled.

"Good."

He missed the look that Cas and Lisa exchanged before Castiel cleared his throat.

"Kevin was on a courier job at the firm, and he ... Keller shot him in the head."  
"Did he ...?"  
"No, he was pronounced DOA."  
"Fuck."

Cas nodded, and Lisa spoke again.

"Your friend Charlie is down in the Pit. She got shot in the arm, but her surgery can wait. She was asking to see you."  
"I can't."  
"I know. I told her that."

Dean sniffled and nodded. Cas leaned closer to him.

"He's still alive, Dean."  
"Cas--"  
"Listen to me."

Dean leaned his head over, and Lisa continued to gently rub his back as Cas spoke.

"He's got two shots to the chest. Benny and Bobby are working as hard as they can."  
"What about Cain?"

Lisa shook her head.

"He died almost as soon as you left the room."  
"Fuck."

Dean let out a gasping sob, and Lisa closed her eyes as she held him. Cas reached over and laced his fingers through Dean's, and the three of them sat there in silence for a long time.

\- - - - -

Lisa had dozed off, head resting on Dean's shoulder. Cas was staring up at the ceiling tiles, involved in an intense counting session, and Dean was staring straight ahead.

"He's in there because of me."

Cas stopped, immediately losing count, then turned to face Dean.

"What?"  
"It's because of me."  
"You went and shot up the office?"

Dean blew out his breath.

"No. I brought him the case, and now, he's lying on a fucking operating table."  
"You didn't bring him the case."  
"I did, Cas."  
"No, you didn't."

Dean looked over, and Castiel shook his head.

"Keller went to his office. Keller brought him the case, and when he found out it was you, he refused it. He invited himself onto your case. You didn't ask him. You didn't bring him anything. Sam--"  
"Do _not_ say Sam brought this on himself. He didn't bring it on himself. He took the damn case because it was me."

Cas nodded. 

"You've got a martyr complex."  
"What?"

Cas shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm a shrink; it's what I do."  
"What the hell's a martyr complex?"  
"Just what it sounds like. You take the blame for everything. You put the burden on your shoulders, freeing everyone else from pain and guilt. You carry it all, and for no reason."  
"Cas--"  
"It's honorable. Kind of stupid, but honorable."

Dean shook his head, and Cas nodded.

"You blame yourself for Keller's wife dying. He tried to sue you, so that was your fault. Sam took your case, your fault. Sam won your case and got the charges dropped, which was a big win for him. Not you. But then Keller went on a shooting rampage and Sam got caught in the crossfire, and that is all because of you."

Dean let his head fall back against the wall, and Cas reached over to take his hand again.

"You're not to blame here, Dean. And I believe through some intense therapy sessions, I can help you overcome yourself."  
"I might kill you before we're done."  
"Risk I'm willing to take."

Dean nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again. 

"I can't lose him, Cas."  
"You won't."

Dean let out a laugh.

"You're so sure?"

Cas shrugged.

"Sam's young and healthy. Strong. He's got a vicious will to live, and a hell of a lot to fight for. I think he'll pull through just fine."

Dean nodded. 

"God, I hope you're right."

\- - - - -

"They wouldn't let me go into the gallery."

Lisa smiled, running her fingers through Dean's hair. He was lying on his side, head in her lap. Cas was gone to get an update, and this was the first time Dean had spoken since Lisa had woken up. She spoke softly.

"Of course not. We can't watch or participate when it's family."

Dean gave a half-smile.

"Family."

Lisa's smile widened.

"I think he's a little more than family."

Dean nodded.

"He's everything."

Tears welled up in Dean's eyes, and his voice went thick and soft.

"I need a chance to tell him he's everything."  
"You'll get one."

Dean nodded, pressing his face into Lisa' leg. She gently rubbed his arm, looking up when Cas came back to them, smiling widely.

"He's out of surgery."

Dean sat up, scrambling to his feet.

"Is he ...?"

Cas bent over to help Lisa to her feet, and they all turned around when Jody Mills, chief of general surgery and Dean's boss, came walking forward. Jody sighed.

"He's alive. It's a miracle, but he's alive. The bullets were--"  
"Jody, I want to see him. Please."

She blinked at his pleading tone, then nodded.

"Soon as he's out of recovery, which should be in the next half-hour."

Dean nodded, voice thick when he spoke.

"Thank you."

Jody nodded, turning to walk away, raising a hand and rubbing absently at her heart. Dean leaned back onto Cas, wrapping an arm around Lisa when she stepped up to his side.

\- - - - - 

Dean licked his lips, then swallowed when he saw the man in the bed. For such a huge person, Sam seemed so small hooked up to machines like that. Dean stepped into the room, looking over the monitors, nodding when he saw how good the numbers were. He grabbed the only chair in the room and pulled it up to the bed, reaching shaky hands out and grasping hold of one of Sam's. His hand was cool, and Dean held it tightly, lifting it slightly to rest his forehead on it.

"Christ, you scared me."

He moved the hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

"Don't do that again. Do you hear me? Don't ever do that to me."

Dean swallowed, shaking his head, tears coming to his eyes again.

"I've got some things I need to tell you, so you need to listen, all right?"

He sniffled, pushing his head towards his sleeve, wiping his nose. He let out a sigh, then reached over to brush his fingers through Sam's hair. 

"I thought it was my job. I thought it was this place. But this whole time ... it's you. It's always been you. You're my safe place, Sammy. My sanctuary. And I need you to wake up so I can say this to your face. I need you to hear me when I say that I love you so much, and I can't do this without you. I don't _want_ to do this without you. You are absolutely everything to me. Everything, Sammy."

Dean held a hand to Sam's face, just beginning to feel the stubble growing in.

"You've got to know that, so I need you to wake up, okay?"

Dean sniffled again.

"But until you do, I'm going to be right here. You can rest as long as you need to, but I'm going to need you to wake up soon. I'm needy, you know."

Dean let out a laugh, trailing off into a sigh, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to Sam's forehead.

"I'm right here, Sammy. Whenever you're ready to come back."


	9. Chapter 9

-Epilogue-

_Three Years Later_

He still has pain in his chest sometimes.

He can't run as far or as much as he used to. He gets winded easier, but that's something they're working on. 

The Keller case was his last. Maybe it was cliche, but getting shot changed him. He decided he didn't want to be a lawyer anymore. Now, he teaches two days a week at the local college, and is just about everyone on campus' favorite professor, colleague, and friend. 

He's also Sam Winchester now.

Dean proposed as soon as Sam blinked his eyes open in the ICU. Of course, he couldn't accept right away, not with the tube down his throat. But as soon as he was extubated, his raspy, weak "yes" was the most wonderful sound Dean had ever heard. Dean, who was still a doctor, still a surgeon, and quickly becoming world-renowned. Dean, who sometimes lies awake at night when he thinks Sam is asleep, fingers tracing the bullet wounds and surgery scars that now mar Sam's chest. 

Dean, who is still working at himself in therapy with Cas, even three years later.

Cas, who is married to Meg now, and expecting twins any day. 

Sam getting shot changed a lot of things, and not just for Sam and Dean. Charlie became a homebody, creating websites from her home office. Gilda moved in with her, and with the border collie they, for some reason, named Toto, have created a home that Charlie thrives in. 

Cas took Meg to Vegas, popping the question on the plane. She, of course, said yes, and spends most of her days lately on bed rest, complaining about daytime TV and how huge her ankles are. Oh, and fighting with Cas over what their twins will be named.

Jo is a resident at the hospital, specializing in orthopedics. After she scrubbed in on Charlie's surgery to repair her arm after the bullet tore it apart, Jo found her calling. Her mother is still the best obstetrician/gynecologist around, which both Meg and Lisa can vouch for.

Lisa is the mother of a beautiful blue-eyed three-year-old little boy named Ben, who adores his Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam. He also adores his Benny, who finally gave in and asked Lisa out on a date. When she got sick at the mere appearance of his steak, she spilled her pregnancy news, and Benny's eyes lit up. He loves Ben as if Ben was his own, and if you ask either one of them, he is. 

Sam sits sometimes, at his desk at work or on the couch with Dean beside him, thinking about how lucky they are. When he gets those dull aches in his chest, he closes his eyes and pictures the emerald eyes he sees every morning. The eyes that he now realizes are the windows of his walking, talking sanctuary. The safe place he can always count on to be there, to listen, and to love him, no matter what. 

And because of that, Sam wouldn't change a single thing.


End file.
